Weiss Stern
by laurose
Summary: An alternate history. Warning - character death: Farfarello. Pairings: Aya/Ken; Yohji/Natsuki, possible Schuldig/Ouka but she's a smart girl
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: Weiss belongs to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss and others

thanks to my beta Sybil Rowan

*

Schuldig had always considered chess an advanced waste of time and so far this version had reinforced his opinion. That moron Takatori had wanted to enjoy suckers hacking each other to bits with oversized letter openers, so of course his Talented bodyguards were dragged along to where they would be less use than mundanes.

There was no need for all of them, except Geisel didn't trust either team mate out of his sight. Schuldig wished his team leader was either more or less capable. For civilians to believe a telepath could read a hundred minds simultaneously and fully was an excusable mistake, not that he would excuse it. Anyone Rosenkreuz trained knew it was using a scalpel as a can-opener. At the mental roar of a mob and its victims all Schuldig could do was retreat behind shields.

Behind these he sulked, barely bothering to keep an eye on Farfarello, who was watching these drafted amateurs with the nearest he could get to pain. Schuldig indulged himself with an extra sulk about the team leader, with his trendy gear, and buddy buddy manner, and his determination to backstab Schuldig and Farfarello for one plugged yen. Schuldig was so enjoying this he almost missed some trench coated lunatic going after Takatori with a sword.

Well, the lunatic did move damn fast. Schuldig barely had time to try for his mind, sliding off an unexpected shield of natural talent and determination, before fire licked over the sword, and he was holding a blade of white and gold flames.

And Geisel was a grandstanding bastard.

Showing more presence of mind than most mundanes on first meeting talent, Trench Coat threw the sword at Takatori. Its molten metal burnt upon flesh. Clothes had flared to flame before Geisel quenched his fire. Trench Coat pulled a knife from his boot.

"We better go," suggested Schuldig.

He wasn't scared of any mundane or ten, but a mob was a different matter, and it took no telepathy to see rehearsed excitement and unexpected terror was liable to explode in unexpected and unpleasant fashion. Geisel pyro'd the knife even hotter. Of course, Trench Coat threw it at Takatori.

This time Farafarello caught it. Holding the red-hot knife with what his scarred face could show of rapture, he said, "The angel with the burning sword!"

Trying to do something useful for once, Geisel sent a fireball at Trench Coat. It briefly gilded a face which did look like an angel's, except the expression. Schuldig thought he might have seen it before, and decided it didn't matter. The attacker was already ducking bullets from Hikage's regular guard. The fireball hit one of them.

Hikage's absurd drag outfit slipped to show the gun holster beneath as he slunk behind Trench Coat, aiming his gun to shoot him in the back. Schuldig didn't blink when Hikage fell, but he did when he saw an arrow in his neck.

Geisel stepped between Trench Coat and Takatori's black beetle tuxedo to pull himself up to his full height, in a gesture taught at Rosenkreuz more for intimidation than efficiency. Even if the pudgy and narrow-shouldered Geisel wasn't as tall as either, his eyes had the ruby glint of a pyrokinetic at work. The mundane guards scattered. They were brave men against thugs with guns and madmen with swords, but psychic tricks had them spooked.

Schuldig said, "We have to go!"

A wall of fire ringed Takatori and his three Talented bodyguards. "At our leisure."

Trench Coat came through the fire. He would, Schuldig thought. He left it to Farfarello to deal with his angel and started to drag Takatori away. It was a hell of a team where he was the voice of reason.

Takatori shook him off with disdain and said, "I can walk by myself." Also, he insisted on leading the way up the roof. Schuldig could tell himself he didn't care what a mundane mark thought of him, but he knew he was an awful liar.

Even a telepath could feel uneasy at the sudden emergence into open night, all the darker after Geisel's flames. The helicopter was waiting already. So was someone in ambush position in the shadows. Schuldig skimmed a mind flavoured rather like Trench Coat's, reading he was hunting Hikage, and was glad to see non-Hikage out of the way. He opened his link with Farfarello as little as he could, for it was like listening to a symphony with the instruments out of step. And loud. He could just read Farfarello was annoyed most of his angel's attention was on Takatori. //Hurry up, Farf.//

//He's good.// Farfarello was enjoying the exercise, the challenge of working through his own wounds and bloodloss. His opponent was a score card.

Schuldig shuddered back from this seductive illusion, so opposed to his own tendency to drown. //Did you have to give him a knife?//

//He took it.//

//Come on, Farfarello!// Schuldig hooked into the berserker's mind and began to pull.

//Just a moment while I - //

Geisel snapped, "Come on, Schuldig!"

"Just a moment while Farf - " Schuldig most unexpectedly obeyed an order and dove into the helicopter behind Takatori. Farfarello and Trench Coat were just behind him.

Crammed among other bodies in the helicopter's hatch, Schuldig tried to see what was happening through the eyes of the roof lookout. The top feeling was confusion. These – Weiss – guys were after Hikage. Though – Ken – could make out little in the general mess, the total non-Hikage-ness of Takatori and even more of Fafarello was obvious.

Trench Coat had one knife to Farfarello's two. He was good, but it was obvious Farf could have finished him off clean. Clean, however, was not Farfarello's thing. Ken saw the long curlicues of red on his team mate and jumped to help. Farfarello turned to brush away what looked like a punch, and met a fistful of knives, which would have torn a normal man's arm off. Even he staggered under the blow, and Trench Coat stepped up and thrust his knife through Farfarello's single eye into his brain.

Feeling his linked team mate's death knocked Schuldig to his knees. Geisel grabbed the green blazer and needed all his Talented strength to drag the taller man into the helicopter already lifting off. Geisel tossed a parting tongue of flame at their new acquaintances. It spectacularly flamed part of the roof but both Weiss managed to dodge it. Mostly.

As his trench coat kindled, Farfarello's killer screamed something and threw the bloody knife into the hatch. The pilot flinched. For a second the helicopter choked and staggered.

Takatori leaned forward in his seat and slapped the back of the pilot's head. "Keep your mind on your flying!" Probably intimidated., the machine behaved itself. Leaning back again, he said to Geisel, "I am not at all impressed with Esset's finest. It took you two tries to finish off the Fujimiya family, and that's with my help."

So theat's where he'd seen the good-looking redhead. Trivial, as he'd thought. Schuldig's last glimpse saw Fujimiya standing poised as if to leap after the helicopter, ignoring the coat burning on his shoulders.

Schuldig turned away to focus on playing the tediously common mixture of greed and vanity, which was Takatori's remnant of soul. He was angry at this fool mundane's reprimand, but he also felt threatened, as he was meant to. No one had ever suggested there was any life for him outside Esset, and he was theirs to the core.

Among Takatori's trash, his feeling for his daughter gleamed surprisingly clean. Something for Schuldig to exploit, or at least amuse himself with.

Also, he'd 'suggest' to Geisel Farfarello's replacement be a pretty girl. Though he'd miss the hard kink with Farfarello. That was the nearest his team mate had to a mourner, and more than Schuldig expected for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

The strange flames reminded Ken..._Surrounded by fire, choking, burning_...Ken pulled the burning coat from Aya's shoulders. "Why, Abyssinian? Aya, did he kill Omi?"

Ken wrapped his orange shirt around Aya's to smother the sparks and tongued open the comm. "Bombay?"

The comm answered in Omi's voice. "Mission accomplished. Abyssinian freaked out. Are you ok?"

The fire was over. Manx had rescued him. _The nightmares_...But he was awake now. He concentrated on the remains of this fire, quenching it enough not to be immediate danger, or to draw the attention of danger.

The damp, dark night would hide them and carry sound well, and they had a good vantage point on the highest roof around. Even if it was of a sagging building which should have fallen down before Hikage got it. "Abyssinian is still freaked out. And a bit cut up. And burnt." A few minutes to wrap the worst of the cuts in bits of his shirt, then he took off his jacket and put it around Aya. "Come on, let's get out of here, eh?" Aya turned his head stiffly, to look at him. Normally those violet eyes were ice. Now he seemed to be waking from a nightmare of his own. "The first step is to get off the roof."

Aya looked around vaguely. Then he looked back at Ken, not so vaguely. Strips of shirt still hung from Ken's collar, not much of the old burn scars. "You were burnt."

"Yes."

"You saved me from being burnt."

Ken nodded. Into the comm, "Tonkinese, are you and Bombay all right?" Tonkinese was in Weiss because of Ken. He'd been well back, taking care of electronics, but Ken was greatly relieved to hear his soft voice say, "We're fine. The police are on their way. Please leave quickly." The suggestion was reinforced by the roof shivering under their feet. Even sure-footed Ken nearly slipped in it, even graceful Aya walked stiff-legged.

Hearing shouts on the stairway, the Weiss went over to the outside wall and looked down. Normally Ken could have done it easily. But then normally Aya would have made one of his spectacular jumps. Ken wanted to stay beside him. The way down looked as dilapadated as the rest of the building, but to judge by the screaming and shaking of walls they were better off than those inside.

Aya was wearing Yohji's watch. The corpse as anchor, they used the watch wire as – uncomfortable – climbing rope. Ken briefly wished for Tonkinese' telekinesis, but it was unreliable and likely to be as dangerous to Weiss as to their enemies.

Two streets and a riot away Omi and Nagi were waiting beside Aya's Porsche, and from Omi's expression, it wasn't just for the ride home. "Abyssinian, would you care to explain why you ignored the target and chased someone else?"

"No."

Normally Ken would have liked nothing better than siccing Omi in full Bombay onto Aya, but just now he had a feeling it was kicking someone already down. Aya was physically hurt as well. Seeing this, Nagi said, "Omi-kun, now isn't really the time..."

Omi manged to smile rather stiffly at Nagi, who was the baby of the team after all. Aya said, "Omi, can you drive the Porsche home?" Everyone checked him for sign of head injury. To judge by the distant look in his eyes, it was better he wasn't driving. "Ken and I are going home on his bike."

"We are?" asked Ken, but even in shock Aya knew his own mind. "But I'm driving."

The elder Weiss watched the white car take the most discreet route possible through cop cars and crook limousines. Normally Omi or Nagi driving would attract attention. What was going down, no policeman would waste the station's time on under age drivers. Ken straddled his bike and kicked it into a sleepy growl. "Where to?" As Aya took pillion, "If you're that stiff on the road we'll be awkward as a movie samurai."

Aya shifted a couple of reluctant inches closer. "South. Just...south."

Ken shrugged and shot away. He'd no intention of stopping for any cop, so he didn't give them time to tell him to. He couldn't help smirking when he felt Aya's fingers dug into his waist. Tokyo is a big city, and by the time they'd reached south Aya was learning to help the driver.

South in Tokyo is coast. Soon they were riding through Minato, where Weiss often hunted. Close was the warehouse where he and Kase...Ken concentrated on driving. He drew up at Shibaura Quay and waited to be told to go east or west. Aya said, "We get off here."

"Fine. That'll be one explanation plus tip."

Aya swung off the bike and walked. Ken put the first aid box under his arm before he followed him.

Where the loading ramps had been abandoned for the night, high tide surged just inches short of their boots. Ken looked uneasily at the water, and jumped when Aya said, "Yes, it's deep even here. It gets deeper further out. Very deep, very quickly. And look how far it goes. Japan's just a speck in the Pacific Ocean. Put your hand in the water." Ken did, with reluctance. "All that water, Ken, will put out any fire. Next time you dream of fire, let that memory of sea be there to quench it."

"Uh, right," said Ken. He retrieved his hand and waved the first aid box. "Can I see to your knife cuts now?"

Aya sighed.

* * *

Omi's excuse had been his responsibility to his team. Surely he had to make sure Kenken and Aya-kun hadn't got into a third, perhaps final, fight. Nagi had just admitted he was curious. Now they were parked high enough to give them a view of Aya and Ken, at least with i-r binoculars. "What are they doing?" hissed Nagi. His binoculars were as good as Omi's but his long sight wasn't.

"I think," Omi peered again, "I think they're holding hands."

Nagi sniffed. "And about time too."


	3. Chapter 3

Yohji was kind of sorry he'd missed the Human Chess Mission. Something had happened no one was telling him about. Omi and Nagi watched Ken and Aya, Ken watched Aya, and Aya kept his own counsel.

And now someone else was watching and following Aya. Very amateurishly, too. Though inner city, the Koneko was in an area where a bag lady stood out. This bag lady with her misfit wig and new shoes especially. A flash of calf, a curve of ankle...Why the hell was Ken's girlfriend following Aya anyway?

Come to think of it, Natsuki hadn't been around lately. He'd missed her. Straightforward and cheerful, just his type. If she'd decided being saved from a crazy old nun wasn't enough to build a long term relationship, he'd be glad to take her. If Kritiker had told Ken to cool her off...well, she could easily have got suspicious. But wouldn't she be following Ken? As he joined the procession Yohji looked over his shoulder a few times to make sure no one was following him. Actually, someone was, but not in a fashion he could be expected to discover.

Aya seemed to believe in long healthy walks. All too soon they were moving into those parts of town where bag ladies look more normal. When Natsuki dashed after Aya into an alley, Yohji followed not knowing whether he would question or rescue her. Even after he saw Aya looming over her.

Yohji had already learnt convent raised kids know a lot of bad language, and he was still impressed by the names she was calling Aya. They were based on his sexual proclivities, but now ranging far beyond that. When at last she paused for breath, Aya asked reasonably enough, "Why should you care?"

"Why should I care you've stolen my boyfriend?" Not so much loud as shrill. The hands on type, Natsuki slapped his face, then began thinking about it.

Yohji had known Aya knew he was there. He still twitched when those icy, violet eyes swung round on him. "Is this your idea?"

"No! I bet Ken thought it up all by himself." He wished he knew what Aya was thinking. Well, no, he didn't. Whatever Aya was thinking wasn't good. Yohji was never one to shut up just because it was sensible. "He probably didn't want Natsuki-chan here getting involved with..." To Natsuki, "We're not completely law abiding, I'm afraid."

Natsuki chirped. "Oh, I know about Weiss." They looked at her. Yohji found himself as tongue-tied as Aya. "Hanae-san told me after Ken saved my life. She figured I 'd hardly go to the cops."

It was Aya who asked, "_What_ do you know about Weiss?" A lot it seemed. Yohji had never thought Manx so loquacious. "And does Ken know you know?"

Natsuki pouted. "He wasn't pleased."

Yohji grinned widely. "And there you have, o best beloved, How The Abyssinian Acquired A Love Life He Didn't Know About." To Aya's disappearing back, "Leave some of him for Natsuki!" He looked back at her, a distinctly more rewarding experience for him. "I'm afraid even the heaviest disguise cannot hide the fact you are young and lovely, and altogether not someone who should be in these surroundings. May I escort you to somewhere better suited to you?"

She followed him co-operatively enough, no doubt equally tired of the scents of antiquity. "I think I want to talk with Ken." She laughed. "Talk at Ken, I mean!"

"If it goes like last time, he'll be sporting a black eye, and you'll be too sorry for him to give him what he deserves..." They talked on the way back to the shop. By the time they'd arrived, Yohji was convinced Natsuki was far too good for Ken. "...Just a drive out in the country." He patted Seven. He'd never dated a girl who wouldn't rather be driven in a sports car than hang onto a bike. "It would be my pleasure to buy you lunch."

"I guess Ken wasn't exaggerating about you."

"You're different. With most dates I have to cover up." She glanced at his shirt. While not as extreme as his clubwear, it was brief enough. He grinned back. "I mean, I have to distract or lie all the time."

Natsuki's dimple flickered into view. It was just about where Asuka's mole had been. For the first time Ken's talk about choosing life seemed sense. She looked at the shop. "I'd feel better if I knew they were all right."

"Your wish is my command." Yohji bowed her into the passenger seat with a flourish before ambling over to the front entrance and sticking in his head, most cautiously. At least the shop wasn't trashed this time. In fact neither Aya nor Ken were visible, or even audible. Nagi was arranging his signature flower, hawthorn, and Omi was tapping at his laptop with his signature speed.. "Where're our two lovebirds?"

Far from being shocked as he'd hoped, they didn't even look up. Omi continued trying to melt his laptop's keys. Nagi said, "The cemetery."

At Yohji's yelp Omi did jump. "Nagi-kun!" To Yohji. "They're healthy."

Yohji spat out the remains of his cigarette. Unsalvageable. "Then why?" Omi's gaze flickered to Nagi before he concentrated on his laptop again.

Yohji looked at Nagi, who wriggled a little, blushing half a shade less pale. He said, "I just happened to overhear...They're visiting the graves of Aya's parents."

Rather late, he remembered Ken wouldn't lie. "I did miss something, didn't I?" Omi grinned at his laptop.


	4. Chapter 4

Rosenkreuz' new, and hopefully lunatic-free, Tokyo team was meeting in the airport restaurant. That was only the beginning of the trouble. Their new member didn't realise half of Geisel's bad temper came from his trying to remember just why he'd considered it so important to have an attractive young woman as Farfarello's replacement.

To her he said, "_I'm _a pyrokinetic." He was speaking loudly enough so the nearest tables could have answered a quiz about the conversation, but the few who hadn't suddenly found somewhere else to be had their attention fixed on something else. This sort of telepathic grandstanding was frowned upon by Rosenkreuz, but Isabella Chavez didn't care what trouble either creep landed in.

She said, "I'm a thermokinetic, but not a pyro. Much smaller changes in molecular speed." She was a white blonde who looked more Swedish than Spanish, but blondes seem to crop up in unexpected places. "My talent was only a secondary consideration. Oracle foresaw - "

Geisel's smile shortened, and the other member of her new team dropped his smirk. It improved him, but not enough. "Is she still alive, or is this some other loony?"

Isabella shrugged elegantly. Rosenkreuz' best precog always bore the name Oracle, and always seemed to have a few leaks in the roof. "The same old woman, I think. Or another just like her." All three knew Oracle's prophecies twisted and bit the would be user. They also knew there was no way the Elders would stop attending to them. "She Saw..." she looked around at the distracted neighbours, but still waited for Schuldig to link mentally. //He Whose coming we all work for will appear in Japan, and His mouthpiece will be a very young woman with violet eyes.// she wait as they understood their backwater was hosting the World Cup. //My talent is certainly not the strength of yours, but I can kill by cooling heart's blood, boil a man's mind to imbecility as surely as a telepath, and sabotage technology.//

Geisel choked on it, but managed, //Are you to be the team's new leader?//

Schuldig's 'voice' said, //We better get out of here. I'm the best, but even I can't obscure the strangeness of three people having a conversation in mime.//

Neither man offered to help her with her luggage, all one holdall of it. Settling it over her shoulder gave her time to beat down the temptation to demand they consider her their leader. Even if she managed to screen out the telepath, at least for a while, Rosenkreuz had ways of ensuring its name wasn't taken in vain. //No, for the moment we are Geisel's Tokyo team.// Perhaps for years, she added glumly, _not_ to her comrades in arms.

Schuldig thought, //Schwarz.// Both the others stopped and peered at him. //If _that_ team// a quick shot of Farfarello blanking out, unfeeling and uncomprehending to the end //calls itself Weiss, we can be...// he trailed off, looking at his two teammates, neither of whom would stay allies one moment longer than he would himself, //...forget it.//

They did.

Having squeezed their way outside, the three stood jammed in the crowd. Everyone around them was pressing forward, frantic to get to buses and taxis. Into the pedestrians-only mall glided an outsize black limousine. It stopped exactly before Geisel. A uniformed chaffeur got out and opened the back door for him.

There might be compensations.

.

The Mercedes' suede upholstery shrank from her cheap denims. Geisel gave her a look of masculine befuddlement and said aloud, "Those aren't expensive clothes, are they?"

It was Schuldig who laughed. In a patronising tone, "They weren't expensive even when new."

"Fine," said Geisel. "You'll be the one to take her , cellphone, gun - "

"I've got a _gun_," said Isabella, miffed.

"What sort?"

"Glock. Regular and explosive ammo."

"Fine. But clothes - "

"And manicure and hairdo," Schuldig said, snatching the credit card from Geisel with the widest smirk yet. It had shrunk appreciably by the end of the first hour of womens' shops. By the end of the second hour it had disappeared altogether, soon followed by Schuldig. He left the credit card with their address and dire threats.

Giving Takatori Towers as delivery address got her much better service than a scruffy gaijin could normally expect. She found it amazingly easy to get used to this.

Of course, she would have to work for it. She accepted a complimentary bouquet from a shop manager as due. Not even noticing the faint scratch from a laurel twig she gave another Ginza address to the taxi driver, and sank back into the suede seat, plotting.

She was unconscious before she'd sat down.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a picture designed to soothe, of palm trees in the sun, impossibly blue sky and sea. The message written on it in prim schoolgirlish handwriting was polite enough too: Having a wonderful time. Thank you for the money.

Schuldig tore the postcard in half, in quarters. Finding himself fumbling further subdivision he spat at the cardboard, wadded it tight and threw it into the nearest waste paper basket. His impulse to take the first plane out to find the little bitch and mindblast her died at the image of Geisel and Takatori's faces when he asked them for a round ticket to Tahiti.

He fantasised what Essett would do to her when they found out. Then he remembered what Essett would do to him and Geisel when they found out and kicked the waste paper basket. They'd have to cover for her. As she knew.

Perhaps if he paid for his own plane ticket...

The mind scent of a distressed secretary, normal enough in Takatori's office, suddenly peaked. Eager for a fresh distraction ever since the coffee machine blew up, Schuldig left his dull little cubicle and ambled over to where it seemed Geisel wasn't handling Takatori quite as well as he'd claimed.

The secretary was engaged in busy-work just outside the Takatori sanctum, but she needn't have been so close. When Takatori was annoyed he let people know it. Schuldig had no need of telepathy to get his share of the rant.

"I let you check through my brothels for some weird eye colour fetish you've got, and you burn down my best earner - Weiss, who are - ? were, then! Who cares anyway! D'you know how much Riot was netting in cash alone, and that was nothing to the power - !"

Schuldig shook his head at her. True, she hadn't even heard of Kritiker until she was Takatori's secretary, when his conduct had recruited her for them. But even a newbie shouldn't be so obvious. He prowled up behind her and blew into her ear. "Having a nice listen, Keiko-chan?"

Keiko squeaked, thinking _creepy gaijin_. The secretarial pool considered lately there had been far too many creepy gaijin around Takatori Towers, but had universally elected him as arch-creep. Otherwise he was distinguished from the others only by liking industrial strength coffee, knowing everyone's name and business, and trying to make up to Ouka, poor girl.

Schuldig watched her scuttle off to tell Kritiker what it already knew. There were amusing things he could do to her, especially amusing the things he could do with her and Takatori together, but it was time to focus on sucking up.

Geisel would be sure to blame his own mistakes upon Schuldig, with both Esset and Takatori. There was nothing he could do about Esset, but Takatori would be responsive to some counter-propaganda, especially if Schuldig lost a few rounds of golf.

Smiling at the image of Takatori in plus fours brandishing a golf club, Schuldig slunk in to offer Geisel to Takatori.


	6. Chapter 6

Manx slid into the taxi cab with a flourish of fine legs and white socks. The diver asked "Where to, lady?" His Tokyo accent might have fooled a non-Tokyo woman.

Manx shrugged elegantly. Her shrug had won her more fights than the gun in her handbag. "You seem to be the one choosing that. I've a message from – my boss."

"Whichever code name you want, lady."

"He likes what you've done so far. You've saved Weiss from being burned to death with Riot, and hopefully Takatori believes they were. But we want to know more why you're offering help, and to him. It sounds as if you'd be on Esset's side."

"I knew you were going to say that. I'm a functioning precognitive. Rather stronger than any in Esset's possession. They do own their people. Even when I was young, I had just enough of my special power to be able to get the hell out of Dodge when they came for me.

"As far as I can see, I've two choices. I can spend the rest of my life cowering in the shadows, hiding from Esset, or I can destroy them. I've chosen the second, and one way or the other, you people are going to help me."

"Some might say you have a third choice. To become a well treated servant of Esset."

In the driver's mirror his eyes caught hers. They were a non-Japanese brown, almost amber. Like a tiger's. "That is not a choice."

She shivered. She'd as soon face Abyssinian in full 'shi-ne'. "We are going somewhere?"

"Yes. You see, I know which way you'll decide. I've decided to take one of their pawns.

"In the meantime I'll give you a sweetener for no further charge. Just for you, not your boss. It'll help Weiss stay sound. You're about to offer them the Creepers case, aren't you?"

"You need telling?"

He drove his cab a long way out of central Tokyo. Manx hoped Schuuichi'd cover the fare.

At last they drew up in the parking lot of a busy hospital. She raised her eyebrows as he left his cab unlocked. He smirked a little. "I foresee when the first thief will check this car, and we'll be back by then."

Neither visitors nor staff had the time to worry about the big man in the near uniform of a Tokyo cabby strolling along with the sexy redhead. He was telling her, "It'll do Hidaka harm in both the short and the long run if he gets mixed up in the Creepers case. Assign him to your next one - "

"You know that as well?"

"The soft drink guys."

"There'll probably be several before that."

"He doesn't have to work on it full time. But he's the sort of guy who can get close to Freude's customers. And from there distributors."

"Why is this for me and not for my boss?"

"Because you know he's the type who'll demand Hidaka kill his friend. Now, I'd like you to meet someone who's going to be very important in our lives." He ushered her into a hospital room.

For a second Manx' only thought was Fujimiya was going to kill her. Then she realised the girl on the bed wasn't as exact a copy of Aya-chan as she'd thought, and pulled herself together. He was saying, "The black plaits are a wig, of course, but she isn't much older than Aya-chan. She's under heavy enough sedation so a telepath will read her as a coma victim. Put in Aya-chan's place she will make a fine decoy when Esset comes to get her. And believe me they will, even with their sorry precogs." When Manx protested using a young girl as bait he said, "Trust me. This girl is an Esset agent who's already done worse things than that. Tell Fujimiya at once. He'll have to continue his hospital visits just the same. He won't like not being told where his sister is, but with a telepath around there's no option."

He studied Manx and decided she'd had enough for now. He'd tell about the third girl in his shell game later.

*

FIN


End file.
